New Beginnings
by RobBonner22
Summary: Before he was able to go to Hogwarts, young Harry Potter is whisked away by a stranger from the future that is more familiar than he seems.
1. Prologue: The Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making a profit off of the story.

Summary: Before he was able to go to Hogwarts, young Harry Potter was whisked away by a stranger from the future that is more familiar than he seems. When the Boy-Who-Lived is 16, a mere two years after the resurrection of the evil Lord Voldemort, he is sent to Hogwarts finally to learn among his peers. Hogwarts is in for an interesting year

A/N: A new idea that got into my head and refused to leave. Please Review.

The long-awaited day had finally arrived.

After weeks of procrastination, the first of September had at long last appeared in all its glory, and a small boy, barely grazing his first eleven years, was proudly able to boast being one of the first residents of London to view its rising sun, feel its first warm rays. The wet morning dew sprayed soothingly against his tender flesh, causing a brief smile, now a common occurrence, to overcome his usually tired features. The blissful breeze briefly caressed his raven-black hair before casually lifting up debris which zoomed high into the blue of the skies, perfectly synonymous with the young child's feelings on this particular day.

The sun glistened brightly in the peaceful morning sky, but even the brightest mass in the heavens shuddered and squinted at the sight of glinting green eyes, emanating with a hidden potential that simply spelled out power. A striking lightning-bolt graced his pale forehead, consequently forcing the young man to stand out even among the most eye-catching.

The boy christened Harry Potter smiled joyously, a phenomenon that, unusually, had been occurring frequently ever since he discovered the truth concerning his wizarding ancestry. His smile brightened as his mind once more unconsciously drifted towards the magic inside him. He could feel it bubbling up inside of him, as if the mystical essence was aware of the significance that today held and was just as anxious as young Harry was. While nervous, he couldn't help but feel excited as he heedlessly watched nature work with its own inherent magic. Gone would be the Dursleys', along with their capability to taunt and torment him, replaced with others, hopefully similar to himself, that would embark on a journey with him to discover the wondrous world of wizardry. The young wizard sighed dreamily.

Despite his anticipation, Harry did not have any clue as to how he was going to actually reach the train station that housed the transport headed towards his hopes and dreams. Platform nine and three-quarters seemed to be a remote location that was just as inaccessible as the sun. His smile abruptly dropped, replaced by a disgruntled frown. Uncle Vernon would be the ideal choice, however his hatred of anything magical could prove to be a tiny obstacle.

Checking the broken watch of Dudley's that he'd fixed, the time was displayed as a quarter after nine. Almost instantly the cloud of despair that had been dampening his demeanor had diminished. His bright smile was back as he thought about what he would learn, and even remained as he went inside the house to wake his uncle and ask him for a favor for the first time his life.

He treaded gently up the stairs, a little bounce in his strides as he once again realized he wouldn't have to see the same hardwood stairs for some time (or the cupboard underneath them). This continued until he made it to the second landing and was outside of his uncle and aunt's room. As he raised his hands to knock, his malnourished fist mere inches from the wood of the door, something stopped him. Something assaulted his senses with such force that he felt as if he was frozen in some sort of trance. It was pure _magic._

The essence of this power was so intoxicating he felt that he could stay in this limbo eternally. His instincts took control and the young wizard, years later still, could have sworn he practically _sensed_ unadulterated power wafting from the general location of the kitchen. All thoughts of the excitement Hogwarts could entail fled his mind swiftly as he, no mind for noise that could awaken (in other words, enrage) his Uncle and Aunt from their slumber, bolted down the stairs at a furious pace. Once he reached the kitchen's threshold, he barged in eagerly. His jaw dropped at the sight that greeted his eyes.

There in little Harry Potter's kitchen stood an adult wizard (Harry had no doubt he was a wizard) majestically standing to the right of the refrigerator. He looked oddly out of place in startlingly bright green robes trimmed with gold, sword strapped to his back, long and smooth black hair down to the nape of his neck, and a long black staff that he leaned on gently. Actually, Harry noticed, he resembled himself strongly. He stared at him with calm and unreadable emerald eyes, not that young Harry noticed. The youngest wizard present was entranced with the long strands of power that danced around the regal sorcerer and his appearance. The wizard looked to be hitting his late-thirties. The impressive robes that adorned him didn't look strange to Harry unlike the wizards he had seen on his trip to Diagon Alley; actually, they looked perfectly fit for a wizard of his presumable rank. He would have hardly noticed that the man was speaking if it wasn't for his strong tones.

"Harry Potter, you must come with me. It is for the good of the wizarding world that you ask all the inquiries that I have no doubt you have come up with at a later date." He smiled as the inquisitive look on the child's face transformed into a one of blatant curiosity.

"Are you taking me to Hogwarts?" Harry asked hopefully. The man's eyes burned fiercely at the name, and Harry was able to wisely deduce that the man didn't plan on transportinghim to Hogwarts.

"There is no time for questions right...now." Harry raised an eyebrow as the older man said the last word with more venom than Harry thought the nice man possessed. Even if he did not know this man from Adam, Harry felt an odd sort of kinship with him and was willing to give him more trust than he had ever given anyone in his entire life. Suddenly the doors banged open and three individuals dressed in robes entered the room. A severe woman stood towards the right, her black hair tight in a bun, while a tall, pale, and unpleasant-looking man with shoulder-length black hair stood towards the left. But in the center of the trio stood a man Harry felt compelled to respect immediately. Although not as impressive as the man that stood mere feet away from him, the gray-haired man held great power also. His voice was commanding as he spoke to the man whohe was mere secondsaway from leaving with.

"Who are you and what do you want with young Mr. Potter?" The old man asked strongly. The man in question seemed to be radiating anger until it seemed to disappear and the feeling was gone. '_Weird', _thought an extremely confused Harry. Too many wizards had practically appeared out of nowhere inside of his home. All he wanted to do was get to Hogwarts and learn magic, but he had to admit the events unfolding in front of him was starting to get interesting. He knew he would be heart broken if he didn't get to see the climax.

"Albus Dumbledore, this has nothing to do with you," The man sneered distastefully at the two wizards that flanked him before continuing. "Take your cronies and leave this place. Harry Potter will not go to Hogwarts. He will come with me and become my apprentice, therefore learning much more than that pitiful school of yours could teach him in all seven years." The two cronies, Harry observed with a small smile, looked aghast; Harry concluded that they must not be used to someone speaking to this Dumbledore character in this fashion. Normally goody-goody Harry Potter would be aghast also at the way the mysterious wizard sneered at his elders. However, the man attracted the adolescent, and Harry found himself smiling in spite of his manners at the older man's rebellious attitude. He found himself liking the idea of apprenticing under this man, although he knew no idea what that would entail.

"I'm afraid I can't allow this to happen. Harry will come with us to Hogwa-" The forever impassive Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock as he was pushed off his feet by a mere pushing movement with onlyhis handsby the stranger. He slammed into the kitchen door and slumped to the ground, almost unconscious. By looking at the two cronies, Harry could tell this was quite the feat.Theunpleasant malestared in astonishment,the femalein horror, and Harry in awe. His decision was made. The young wizard vowed to be prepared to follow this man to the ends of the earth if it meant he could train under him.

"Come, young Harry." At the wizard's beckoning, Harry looked at the horrified half-conscious Dumbledore before mouthing a small 'sorry'. He crossed the room towards the stranger's side and looked at him for directions. The man gave a brief smile that had him bubbling with pride before the expression vanished, and placed a strong hand on Harry's shoulder. Suddenly, winds whipped around the pair, causing the younger of the two to squint. The identical dark hair of the two was blown upwards, and then that's when they first glimpsed it. Four identical gasps burst from the three professors and young Harry. The stranger just smirked at them, before giving a mocking wave at the trio. The duo vanished and shortly after the winds diminished. The three professors didn't react to their form of transportation, even though it wasn't apparation, only continuing to stare at the space they had just occupiedin complete shock.

The mystery wizard had a burning red scar on his pale forehead. A lightning-bolt shapedscar.


	2. Here's Harry

A.N. Sorry for the long wait. I first wanted to wait until I got at least five reviews, and then I just forgot entirely. No good excuses on my part. I've noticed I've received hits but not that many reviews. PLEASE REVIEW. It gives me much more motivation.

ROBBONNER22

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.

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Chapter 1: Here's Harry!

Five years later...

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"Do you hear that, Elric?"

A short, round-faced, and pudgy young man stood excitedly outside the doorway of what seemed to be a dressing room, his arm outstretched, pointing towards a point too far away to easily make out. His shaking, chubby form was clothed in sparkling maroon robes, which signified him as Tournament Personnel. A towering, middle-aged man stood near clothed in identical attire, a tall wizarding hat adorning his head, eyeing him behind spectacles with an expression of utmost disgust, his crystal blue eyes narrowing distastefully as he noted his bubbly nature.

"They love him! In my opinion, he shouldn't of left the Isles. This is clearly where he belongs!"

Ignoring the comment, The elder man knocked on the door quietly, his honey-colored hands lightly prodding the ornate entrance to the rooms provided for guest, until his irritation caused him unlock the door with a quick "_Alohomara!"_ when his polite thumping went unanswered. The other man was positively shaking as they entered the door and caught sight of the strapping form of a young male of about seventeen sitting quietly on the marble floors of the room. Sneering at the fidgeting man's lack of seemly decorum, the elder wizard attempted to change the subject. "Don't ask me how I know, as I usually tend to stay firmly out of this 'celebrity nonsense', but I hear he does this before every final match, no matter the difficulty- "

"Difficulty?" The chubby man interrupted, clearly flabbergasted at how anyone could doubt this man's skill with a wand. "There's no such thing as difficulty, he's _Harry-bleeding-Potter_! He has fought the toughest duelers, some quadrupling his age in years and experience, mind you, and won! Who defeated Won Chun of the East! Who defeated Nadia Kluminov up north! Who defeated Steven 'Swift Wand' Walker of the Americas? _Harry Potter that's who!_" At this point the chubby man was basically yelling, spit flying rapidly from his mouth at his balding colleague. The older man seemed unruffled. "He cannot be defeated! Unless-", he lowered his voice quite noticeably, "_You-Know-Who's _went and signed up and nobody knows it-"

The tall man, Elric, glared at the man intensely, which instantly silenced him, undoubtedly realizing he had crossed some invisible line in the conversation. Elric quickly glanced around the room, easily noting the new additions to the room that had been added this year specifically. Maroon marble tiles that matched the two men's robes decorated the floor while obscure paintings, mainly of rare magical creatures, bedecked the silver-colored walls. Two fairly large windows, complete with the finest silver Acromantula silk curtains, had been recently installed, also. The room was fairly larger than necessary, but considering whose room it was, Elric thought, that wasn't surprising. Magical plants delivered a certain flowery aroma in the room and even the very air they breathed had a crisp quality that Elric was sure wouldn't be present in any other guest's rooms.

'_Well,' _Elric voiced inwardly, '_It isn't every year the legendary '_Harry Potter'_ decides to compete in a bonus match in the annual Dueling Tournament. Bah.'_

Reaching out with a rather large hand, he moved in lazily to lightly prod the subject of the two men's thoughts, the young man known as Harry Potter.

The symbol of hope for all of Britain was sitting quietly with his eyes closed, meditating and clearing his mind of all stray and distracting thoughts. He took no notice of the two men in front of him or of his rather luxurious surroundings. Long strands of his ebony-colored hair fell into his handsome face, but he didn't stir or even seem to take note of it. Long deep breaths consistently racked his muscled body every five seconds as he readied himself and prepared his mind to do battle. His eyelids opened steadily, causing the usually composed wizard known as Elric to jump back swiftly, as his hand was mere inches away from the young prodigy.

The crowd's constant roaring sounded instantly in Harry's sensitive ears, and a light smile flashed across his face. When he was competing, there was no such time for admiring the size or decorations, only an almost instinctual monotony of spells, counters, and evasion tactics, but as he heard his fans scream and stomp, his adept hearing provided him with a small idea of the scope of the arena. Suddenly Harry smiled wryly. His _fans, _picture that!

"Thank you for waking me, but it was unnecessary. There would be no way I'd miss my chance to fight!" The young man finished with another grin. Elric almost sighed in relief as he realized the young Potter heir was seemingly down to earth. A proud man, Elric probably would have quit and let his family starve rather than serve some self-satisfied celebrity. He gave a light smile and indicated that two minutes remained until Harry was needed to compete and Harry nodded in comprehension. Looking as if he had wetted himself in excitement, the over-excited man, who hadn't spoke throughout the entire encounter, quickly exited the room.

Elric remained where he stood, looking embarrassed and extremely nervous all of a sudden. He glanced over his shoulder, as if he was expecting someone to pop out of a closet or some other such hiding place. The Boy-Who-Lived considered this to seem almost unbecoming conduct for such a serious and stern man. Harry raised a confused eyebrow in question of the older man's behavior.

"C-C-Can I have your autograph? I-It's for my daughter, honest!"

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Harry soon discovered he was correct in his assumptions of the size of the stadium he was competing in. The range of the arena was daunting, he realized, as he sauntered as gracefully as a dancer from the backstage area as his name was called two minutes later. With a grin, he reached his side of the platform, amidst cat-calling and hollering fans, to get a glimpse of the opponent that had already been situated on the opposite, elevated side of the stage.

The dueling platform was a beautiful contraption to Harry's trained eyes; elevated ten feet off the ground, two circular shapes of some kind of metal were separated by a narrow strip, which was used to do closer dueling during the match. Harry stepped confidently on the circular part that was the dueler to the left's starting point and it rose the ten feet to meet the rest of the stage, and also permitting Harry to glimpse his rival that stood tall on the right side. His opponent, a female, he noticed, let out a small gasp that didn't escape the notice of Harry's well-trained eyes. He raised an eyebrow. '_Either_ _she wasn't expecting to be dueling with Harry Potter,' _Harry thought quietly with a smirk plastered on his face, '_or my unnatural good looks is messing with her mind already.'_

She stood around five foot seven inches tall, with the muscular physique common to refined duelers. Defined cheekbones, a strong chin, and a pointed nose decorated her tanned face, making her quite pretty. Her curly, long hair was colored blond and in a ponytail but what captured his attention mainly was the determination present in her brown eyes, flecked with tiny bits of apprehension. And as a teenaged male, he couldn't withhold himself from checking her out. Harry had already gathered that her face was attractive, but he soon found out that her body was a work of art. Harry assumed dueling training was responsible for flattening her stomach and toning her arms, but only blessings with a mix of genetics was responsible for her chest. He tried in vain not to be obvious in staring, but his attempts were in vain. Fighting to keep his jaw from dropping in appreciation, he noticed her voluptuous body was clothed in form-fitting battle robes, a fact Harry was sure he would not have been able to ignore thanks to her extremely developed upper body if he hadn't meditated. Her wand, a 'just-cleaned' shiny, hung loosely in her right hand. Conclusively, she was extremely attractive but rather intimidating. Harry waved mockingly at her.

After listening to the crowd's roaring at his stunt appreciatively for a couple of moments, Harry's smiling and good nature dropped suddenly. A grimace marred the famous wizard's good looks, and he had already assumed the standard dueling pose. '_I know what her main tactic against males most likely is, _Harry mused silently as he locked eyes with her,_ but she can't expect to defeat _me_ with mere physical attraction alone. Plus, to get to the finals, she must have been impressive. I will pull out on all the stops. Time to show Britain their savior is back!' _Although small, Harry allowed a confident smile to touch his lips in anticipation. Though surprised at the abrupt adjustment in moods, his opponent took it in stride. With a wavering smirk, as if she was in a half-mind about her chances of coming out on top, his opponent copied his movements.

Holding his hands out in a sign that he required silence from the crowd, the announcer walked towards the middle of the platform where the two duelers posed ten feet above. After the crowd obliged, he pointed his wand to his throat and applied a quick sonorous charm.

"Well, ladies and gentleman, as a special treat for you, we have a special guest. Bergman's Dueling has brought you prime entertainment all night, folks, am I right?" The crowd roared in the affirmative, and with a quick nod, the announcer continued. "Our winner, Elise Moon," Harry noted the pureblood name instantly, tensing as this info turned into a seed for ideas of her knowledge in his mind, "has handily won the tournament. However, with her approval, we at Bergman's Dueling have one more match for the champ and for you dueling addicts!" Another pop from the crowd sounded immediately. "Ladies and Gentleman, you heard right when we introduced him. Tonight, straight off a world tour and the cover of Witch's Weekly and TeenWitch Magazines, we give you Harry Potter!" Harry and Elise was tempted to cover their ears as the crowd roared so loudly this time they almost fell, but resisted the temptation, afraid to show weakness. "As every wizard and witch should know, Harry Potter has been training worldwide and let me tell you now, all the reports are true! No one seemingly can hold up to the young Potter Heir's might! Can Elise Moon, Heiress of the Noble Moon Family and this year's champion of Bergman's Dueling Tournament, defeat the famous wizard? Let's find out!" Another pop from the crowd and the announcer prepared to begin the match, his introduction done. Inside, Harry thought his head had gotten four times as big as it already was from all the praise.

"You two know the rules, so let's begin the match on three.

One..."

Harry summoned the energy that resided in him with ease and held it ready before taking a deep breath. Something deep inside him warned him about showing all his powers, but he couldn't help it. The crowd wanted to be wowed so badly, and this was his homecoming...

"Two..."

It seemed as if Harry was miles away, in the Americas, training under his master as he briefly went over the importance of conjuring, or in France, when his master made him face the sixty year old Jean Delecaur, anywhere, but not standing on this platform about to duel a pretty girl. Should he expose to the world his uncanny and unrivaled powers? The world needed hope, he had heard his master say one time, who was he to deny them? He needed to revitalize Britain, the mission his master charged him with, wasn't this how he was supposed to do so? Rejuvenate the country with inspiration, perhaps...

He should. His mind was made up. He was almost seventeen, and with this duel, his apprenticeship was over. No one controlled him and Harry had decided to make his own decisions, just like his master had pressed that he did. He would expose a little of his power and show the people their savior was back in full effect. He felt sorry for this Elise girl, for she stood no chance leaving the duel as the victor. Maybe he would bed her afterwards, to make her feel better...

"THREE!"

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"He didn't, no I refuse to believe he did! I taught him better! Responsibility, logic, reasoning; those were the first lessons of his training!

A tall man sat in the center of a fairly large and circular office. He was clearly middle aged, lines on his face looking as if someone deliberately drew them in, and in a furious rage. Even when clearly upset, it could be easily determined that the man was handsome even as he was getting on in the years, and powerful to boot. An aura of power surrounded him, and with his anger, it was starting to become almost visible, a swirling mixture of different hues and shades. Dark hair fell down loosely from his scalp to his shoulders, caked with sweat, and robes of a bronze color was draped loosely on his frame. Clear contacts that illuminated the green of his eyes well and made him look nothing but older, if the weariness present in his emerald orbs were anything to go by. Most curiously, a striking scar of a lightning bolt dominated his forehead.

Inside the curious-looking room, several different contraptions emitted various noises at different intervals and portraits of older wizards and witches obviously feigning sleep aligned the walls. The sun's burning rays were elongated golden fingers, creeping quietly into the welcoming embrace of the large window on the back wall of the room. On the shelf towards the right of the room sat a functional, albeit dusty, Wizarding Wireless device that blared across the room:

"... Potter is truly PHENOMENAL! He's controlling Elise's movements with his hands and controlling the winds like...like some kind of children's toy!" A female replaced her awestruck male counterpart:

"Just by raising his hands, the winds hurl a frightened Elise into the air, her wand dropped helplessly on the platform. Wait, he's finally raising his wand for the first time today...no, it seems he thought better of it. Instead he...points at her? What is he-" She was interrupted by the rough voice of the male again.

"Ropes have bounded Moon automatically! She's squirming, but she can't escape...Oh my, what's Harry doing? Taking his wand out again...what, a bed! Harry has just conjured a bed on Moon's side of the stage, ladies and gentleman, and now deposits her on the bed, still squirming to get free. Give it up girl, it's over...What magic is this! With a snap of Harry's fingers, Elise is out cold! The match is over..."

In front of the swearing man was a claw-footed desk, on which a teakettle and two cups sat, and behind it sat a bemused, but nevertheless regal looking wizard. Dressed in purple robes adorned with miniature Quiditch balls and a tall wizarding cap, the old sorcerer known as Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stared at the angry man with extreme interest, as if he would like nothing more than to strap him down and study him day and night. Noticing the portraits' increasing astonishment at the man's vocabulary (Professor Dippet let out a "Really, my good man!"), Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and the younger man turned sharply towards the Headmaster in question.

"May I ask why are you so irate, sir? It seems your apprentice has just handily defeated one of my more accomplished students a full year ahead of him with some kind of arcane magical knowledge? There seems to be nothing-" He was interrupted almost instantly by the younger wizard, who gripped the handles of chair until his knuckles turned a pearly white. He halfway sat up as he began to yell at the old man.

"Nothing to worry about! ARE YOU-" calming himself visibly, he sat down and folded his arms, ceasing the punishment his grip was doing to the armrests of the chair he sat in, and continued quietly, "Can you not see the repercussion Harry must now encounter? Now, not only does he have to discover the _true_ meaning of hero-worship, but he gave away useful secrets that that bastard Voldemort can now be prepared for. Extremely powerful, he may be, but he still has so much to learn in the area of wisdom." He sighed in defeat. "No book can teach that particular lesson, I'm afraid, Headmaster. Only experience will shape his reasoning skills." The Headmaster nodded understandingly.

"I am no stranger to the woes of teaching, Mr. Potter. Now, as pleasant as this chat is, I get the impression that you came all the way to Hogwarts most definitely for more than to listen to your apprentice duel on the radio and share tea with an old man. May I inquire your reasons for requesting my time?" The man that sat across from Dumbledore, the man once known as Harry Potter, offered no hint of emotion except to visibly straighten and clear his throat.

"You are correct of course. Three reasons have me sitting across from you today, specifically. Firstly, I would like to apologize for my actions from five years ago. I realize now it was unnecessary, but I couldn't keep reign of my emotions, and for that I am sorry." Albus nodded for him to continue.

"Secondly, I ask you to extend your world-renown generosity once more and offer a space for my apprentice in your school." Dumbledore's clear shock showed up on his ancient face. He was obviously going to request this anyway, and Mr. Potter was almost amused.

'_Dumbledore always did think that no one could protect me better than himself.' _He thought, still humored by the older man's reaction.

"Certainly, my good man!" Dumbledore was excited beyond belief, it seemed. "Is Harry over sixteen?" Albus continued at the other sorcerer's nod. "Good then, because maybe he will have a chance at becoming a Hogwarts' school Champion-"

"Don't tell me for the Tri-Wizard Tournament!" All traces of the previous amusement were gone, and only the alarm he felt for his young charge was left.

"Why, yes...however did you find out several countries away?"

"I'll get to that, Professor. Is Alastor Moody on your staff currently?" At the no, he felt a bit of relief, but was still cautious. "Professor, you must promise me, check your staff for Polyjuice at your earliest convenience, even your most trusted colleagues. I...I just have a bad feeling that this is the type of plot that Voldemort's cunning mind would jump at to harm the school, especially if young Harry is here."

Dumbledore nodded, still confused, but motioned for him to go on to the third reason. Mr. Potter sighed but nodded nevertheless. Dumbledore was intrigued beyond anything now.

"Dumbledore, what I tell you must not leave this room, not even to you Order. Yes, I am aware of your Order of the Pheonix, please don't interrupt. Firstly, I must tell you, I am not who you believe. I am not Harry Potter's uncle, cousin, or other such relative. I am a time-traveler. I _am _Harry Potter."

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"So after you died, I had to grow up, look past your manipulations and remember the man I once thought of as a grandfather. I destroyed all the Horcruxes with help here and there, and it almost proved the end of me, but it never was. I then waited a total of ten years, traveling around the world, training, competing, much like what young Harry's doing currently. I made a name for myself and instilled fear in my enemies. But when I returned to the Isles, I was horrified. Everyone I knew or even cared about at all was dead. By him. Voldemort." A burning hatred had entered his voice at the last note. He had been there for hours telling about the intricacies of his life, and the story had occupied him so much he had forgot to worry when the younger Harry didn't show up as he requested him to do about thirty minutes ago. "Those were dark times. The families that survived were little more than sheep and muggles were declining at a rapid rate in Britain. Only my hatred for Voldemort and his minions stopped from turning tail and fleeing for my life. That and my knowledge that he would do what he did to Britain to the whole world, and I was the only were capable of preventing him since you died.

"I killed them all. At that time, they basically ruled both Knocturn and Diagon Alley. I walked calmly into their lair with no fear of my life. In hindsight, it was foolish but it worked. I showed no mercy, and I let the hatred guide my power. And I was powerful, and that spontaneous rage worked to my favor. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange both died that day for standing up to my wrath." Dumbledore looked aggrieved that one man had to take so much in his life, and disapproved of Harry's methods. Still, he eagerly awaited the next passage like a child for a bedtime story.

"Next I stormed Riddle Manor, and faced a little more difficulty. Arrogance clouded my mind and I would have fared better if I had challenged them in a drunken stupor. Voldemort and his inner circle thrashed me. I forgot one thing when I charged in blindly: Voldemort is the master of the Dark Arts like no other. Hatred, rage, these are his elements. I couldn't beat the master at his own game. I was no match for the combined efforts of him and his inner circle. I was lucky to escape with my life.

In some ways, it may be fortunate that I was defeated." Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow in puzzlement. "If I weren't defeated, I would have headed down the same path as Tom Riddle. I took restock of the situation, and tried again. I realized hatred and rage was not for me, and it did not give you strength. Those feeling tore away at my soul, and my whole soul was my greatest asset against a Voldemort who only had one-seventh of one. This time when I charged, I had surprise to my favor, unlike when they knew I was headed for them. I lured the inner circle out first, and although they fought admirably, they were no match for me. The he came out, followed by another." Dumbledore was now at the edge of his seat.

"The other was Voldemort's apprentice. As the years went by, his search for immortality was still of no success, and once he learned of my destruction of his Horcruxes, he finally acknowledged it. So he decided to train up an apprentice to lead the dark when he perished. The apprentice was none other than Ginerva Weasley."

Harry was alarmed when Dumbledore sagged in his seat as if he was crumbling when he heard the news. The old man's eyes widened and his mouth gaped. Harry remembered at this time Ginny had just performed admirably on her O.W.L.'s, and it would be pretty hard to believe, especially without the Chamber of Secrets experience.

"Remember I told you about the Chamber of Secrets? Well, it turns out he still had a pull on her mind and he easily convinced her to join his side with the combined effort of that and me abandoning her on my world tour. She felt lonely, saddened, but most of all angry. And all at me. I have never forgiven myself for corrupting the girl I loved like that. It was with great sorrow that I killed her, and she almost bested me because of my hesitation. I cursed her with an American curse I learned from Swift Wand Walker that saps the energy out of a person for as long as you hold the curse. I held it until she only had the energy for one last breath. The Ginny I knew was gone, and I couldn't believe it. For my disbelief, I suffered a knife in the back, and not the proverbial kind. Ginny stabbed me with her last bits of energy with a dagger, and after the blow, I was barely alive. Voldemort, thinking it was going to be easy to finish me off now, gloated and gave me time to consider the hopeless situation I was in. It was then that I realized that even though she had betrayed me, I couldn't make myself hate Ginerva Weasley and the woman she was. It was with the love I remembered having for her, the Weasleys, and all my friends that gave me the energy I needed. It was limitless, and I felt as if my very veins were on fire. My back healed up quickly, and for the first time in my life, I believed it. I believed I could defeat him." Dumbledore had a tear in his eyes, and Harry paused, mainly for dramatic effect.

"After Voldemort tried every curse he could and it had no effect, I think he realized he had no chance of coming out alive. He pleaded for mercy, and after several moments of consideration, I stripped Tom Riddle of his magic in revenge for what he did to Ginny and for what he did to my life. As I turned to leave, like the dog that Voldemort is, he tried to catch me unawares with Ginny's dagger. I decapitated him with Gryffindor's Sword for what he did to Britain, and for what he was about to do to the world."

Standing abruptly, Dumbledore walked slowly around his claw-footed desk and grabbed a surprised Harry in a strong hug. At first the middle-aged man stiffened in the older man's grip until he relaxed into it. Dumbledore went back to his seat after a moment, his tears wiped away and a proud smile firmly as his expression.

"After his death, the Isles reconstructed itself. I gave a helping hand, but with Voldemort gone, I felt like something was missing. What made this worse was there was no Ron Weasley to call me barmy for feeling that way, no Hermione Granger to logically explain it, and worse, no Ginny for me to confide in. I realized then what I had to do. And now here we are, back in time, my world completely erased."

"Wow, m'boy, what a tale. It's unbelievable that you went through so much hardship; and to think, I was going to try to force our Harry to partake in the same line of events." Dumbledore sighed sadly, distressed that he almost condemned a person to hell on earth.

"It's okay, Headmaster. Everyone makes mistakes, and I...I forgive you. Speaking of young Harry, where is he? He was supposed to meet us here over forty-five minutes ago to discuss his enrollment here." Dumbledore looked as confused as Harry felt.

-------------------

Leaky Cauldron

Jerking himself from sleep, Harry sat up on the cot his room provided. Looking at the expensive watch that decorated his wrist he realized the time, and his promise to his master.

"Damn!"

Suddenly, Elise Moon sat up from under the covers, apparently awakened by his exclamation. The busty vixen kissed his neck teasingly, clouding Harry's mind instantly. Harry thought it over, finally concluding, _'Well, what's twenty more minutes?'_

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